


(Un)Holy Matri...maybe?

by IgneousFrizzle, late for armageddon (vaulttec)



Series: Bittersweet Omens AU [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema is older because we said so, Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bittersweet Omens, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Good Omens AU, Good Omens Role Reversal AU, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), It's my AU and I choose the timeline, M/M, Marriage, Reverse Omens, Sassy Aziraphale (Good Omens), Snarky Crowley (Good Omens), Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, this fic will make you cry, witchy things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IgneousFrizzle/pseuds/IgneousFrizzle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaulttec/pseuds/late%20for%20armageddon
Summary: A chance flea market encounter brings Aziraphale closer to something he has been looking for since the 1600s. However, the demon and his angel take away an all together different realization from the meeting. How do you properly express to someone you've known 6,000 years that, no matter the repercussions, you belong to each other until the universe goes cold?Excerpt takes place between Chapters 11 & 12 of“Bittersweet Omens.”
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), angel crowley/demon aziraphale, demon aziraphale/angel crowley
Series: Bittersweet Omens AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591561
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

Generally speaking, Aziraphale did not tend to pay much attention to the hustle and bustle of ordinary humans. Though he would admit to having a particular soft spot for those that liked to _collect_ things. (Which would come as no surprise to someone that actually _knew_ him.) He may as well have been a magpie for all the things he enjoyed collecting, and admittedly it was sometimes fun to see the trinkets and bric-a-brac that humans collected for themselves. Even better when said trinkets and bric-a-brac were older than the humans in question.

True enough, he did have ulterior motives for hopping across the pond to a rather large flea market. He’d taken note of all the rare tomes people had managed to pick up from time to time, and in the interest of finding a _particularly_ rare item for himself, he’d all but dragged Jahaziel by the ear with him to have a third set of eyes on the lookout. He was also looking for anything from the year 1969 - or anything to do with the moon landing. It was technically their anniversary, and it was in three days, and Aziraphale had _forgotten_ about it entirely. Jahaziel did not know about this part of his hunt, and the demon had wanted to gift shop in private; sending the angel off to the opposite end of the market for them to ‘work their way in’ from the outside, and meet in the middle with their findings.

He also wanted to vent off a little ‘work’ frustration at unsuspecting plants that humans _always_ tended to bring here. Without fail. 

Finding exactly what he was looking for - of a leafy green variety - he headed over to scold it quietly, already finding numerous problems to shame it over. Mid-thought, he was interrupted by a voice coming from the stall next to it. A human voice. A woman. He paused, closing his eyes to focus on it a little better, listening to what was being said. Normally, most anything humans had to say to him weren’t of general interest unless he was purposely seeking them out for a temptation. However, _this one_ seemed to be chanting something very softly to herself. And it wasn’t entirely English, either.

He stepped around the row of plants, moving closer to the source. The chanting grew louder as he drew nearer, finding it very curious she would be out here talking to herself _like that._ In public, no less. When her words were more than a mumble, he realized she was reciting some kind of spell to herself. Very curious indeed. As she came into his vision, he saw her holding a book, and a curious little bauble that dangled from between the fingers of her opposite hand. 

Throwing caution to the wind, he approached further.

“Don’t you think it’d work a little better if you were somewhere quieter?”

Startled, the woman dropped the bauble, hastily snapping her book shut. Aziraphale excused himself and picked it up for her, noting a curious sort of feeling from the cool metal as he passed it back. He smiled at her, pleasantly as possible, folding his hands in front of himself.

“I’m sorry,” she began, voice a little clipped. The demon could tell it wasn’t out of any rudeness, but it sounded more like she had to rush to explain herself more often than not. “Under normal circumstances, you’d be right. Quieter is better. But…” She looked around, pulling the book closer to her chest and sighing. “I think it’s here. I don’t want to be too far away. In case it is.”

Brow raised above his sunglasses, and Aziraphale tipped his head curiously. Well. If she hadn’t had his rapt attention before, she certainly did now. “Pardon my curiosity, but what’s here?”

The woman smiled tightly at him. “A book.” And she offered nothing more.

Aziraphale smiled in reply, nodding his head slowly. “Ah. I too am looking for a book. Perhaps we could help one another?” To his mild surprise, the flicker of demonic favor he sent out with his suggestion was met with gentle but somewhat firm opposition. He narrowed his eyes at the woman curiously - so what he’d felt from the trinket hadn’t been just a coincidence. He decided to be somewhat more direct. Much like a predator circling prey, he began a slow circle around her. “...Perhaps we’re looking for the same book. What would the odds be of that, hm?” 

Mirroring him, the woman narrowed her eyes as well behind her round, owlish glasses. “Incredibly low.” She turned in a circle as he moved around her, eyes not leaving his face. Aziraphale felt rather _studied,_ at that moment, but enjoyed their small cat and mouse more than he wanted to admit. “Not many people come all this way for fairy tales.”

 _Ah._ Just as he’d suspected - the inflection with which she had said the word _people_ led him to believe that she was onto him, at least in some small part. “Something tells me you don’t either,” he argued quietly, looking around them and casting his senses out the smallest bit. She wasn’t affiliated with Above or Below, but she had _some_ inclination that had the demon quite interested. He stepped closer, voice low once again as he pushed more of the subtle art of temptation into his words. “As I said. Perhaps we can help one another.” 

She was much more receptive this time. Aziraphale was glad Jahaziel wasn’t around to see it - despite being entirely accepting of him as a whole, he never wanted the angel to bear witness to his… “work.” He hadn't done it in earnest in quite some time, but Aziraphale actually did take pride in his style of demonic persuasion. His entire modus operandi depended on being as discreet as possible too. Calling it ‘sneaky' was amateurish. He was _very good_ at what he did. To him, it was _poetry._ For sensitive creatures like this one, he kept any power shift from his aura. Outwardly though, the coercion was only noticeable in his second set of eyes, luckily hidden by ever-present shades. While ordinarily half closed, they opened wider and did not wander an inch from his target, even as his upper ones looked elsewhere. 

The woman’s gaze, hard for a moment, gradually softened. With a nod, she looked around, then back at him; finger sliding the book open to the page she’d been on before. “I don’t have a lot to go on. I’m putting together bits and pieces of what I do know of my family’s history. It hasn’t been easy - there seems to be some kind of…” She made a face, shaking her head. “Power at work. Keeping things hidden. Almost like it’s--”

“Cursed,” Aziraphale finished for her in a whisper. _Of course_ , it all made so much sense now! _Actually_ cursed! Why the replications were worthless. Why no one ever even knew what to do with a replica once they got ahold of one. Why even second printings of the book were regarded as little more than a fancily bound, though empty sketchbook. And _family_. Aziraphale had hit the _jackpot_. “Luck of the Devil,” he muttered to himself. “Oh, we have _so_ much to talk about. But - pardon me, I never introduced myself.” He turned to her properly, extending his hand. “Aziraphale. I’m quite certain you’ll notice there’s a little more to me than meets the eye. It isn’t every day I meet a witch. I’d like to be transparent with you if we’re going to be discussing things of such importance.”

Staring blankly for a moment, the woman took his hand, shaking it firmly. It tingled, though not unpleasantly. “Device. Anathema Device.” A thin smile formed. “One of the only things able to be lifted from the copies was a great idea for a name, I guess.” Not relinquishing his hand straight away, she stared at him. “You said there’s more to you than meets the eye. That would explain a fair number of things, I think. You are…?”

“A demon,” Aziraphale completed. It wasn’t exactly with any _haste_ that she released his hand, though he figured the confession still had something to do with it. “I’m sure you felt as much when I approached you.” 

Anathema nodded slowly. “That… would be it then. Yes.” 

“Are you practicing?” he asked politely, tilting his head the opposite way from before, not so eager to change the subject as he was to move the conversation along.

“Well. Not so much. Actually. Kind of.” Anathema sighed, curling her hair behind her ear. “It isn’t so easy when everyone thinks… Well.”

“You’re a nutter. And not the surname. No offense, of course.” 

“Right.” She smiled. “Exactly.”

Aziraphale hummed, narrowing his upper eyes and looking around again. Jahaziel wasn’t nearby, and he had to wonder if it was because the angel got distracted by one thing or another. “Would you mind it terribly if we met up with my dearest for a bite to eat? We can discuss our mutual interest somewhere that isn’t so… open.” 

He saw the small flash of apprehension in her frame for just a second before his words and hidden, arrow-straight gaze eased her nerves. She looked around at the market, as if half expecting to see whom Aziraphale spoke of. “Are they… like you then?”

“Somewhat,” he offered with a small smile.

She gave a little nod. “Sure. Um. I know a nice little place that serves vegan pizza around here. Called Virtuous Crust.”

Aziraphale could never name the last of the foods he enjoyed on this planet. He could wax poetic about his favorite authentic restaurants in the Cretan Islands alone for an entire age. But half his eyes closed in tense revulsion, memories of Californian novelty eateries in more recent years shooting to the forefront of his mind. “Vegan”, “pizza”, and “virtuous” did not belong together in any respectable breath. He forced a genuine smile and nod, not wanting to break his spell for even a second. Her connection to the book was too important. (He felt vaguely bad he didn’t care as much for possibly hurting her feelings; the tunnel vision of a collector was a powerful, indiscriminate thing.) “Sounds lovely,” he said miraculously without dry heaving. “Should we say 4:30? Beat the rush?”

She smiled more genuinely this time, the tension in her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah. Good idea. Need me to tell you where it is? It’s only a block or two from here.”

“Oh no no, dear one, I’ll certainly be able to find it.” Meaning, Jahaziel would certainly be able to look it up himself. Speaking of which though, Aziraphale made a small show of looking around the market. “I do believe it may take me a little while to find my partner though. Probably lost in some artist’s booth that paints nebulae, bless him.”

She nodded politely. “‘Course. Meet you there then?”

He gave her a small incline of his head in acknowledgement and parting. Only when she was out of his range did he relax his hold on her, leaving her with a nudge of excited urgency to be sure to meet them in exactly twenty-five minutes. Turning the opposite direction, he let his love for Jahaziel bleed pointedly into the market in front of him like a beacon. It was gust to get the angel's attention since Aziraphale still didn't have a cell phone. Sure enough, not even a second later, the demon felt Jahaziel's spike of confused jealousy coming from somewhere down the street. Silly angel, he thought fondly. Aziraphale knew he'd be there within practically minutes. He sauntered in the direction he sensed him. In front of a tent full of hand-carved wooden oddities, Aziraphale spotted Jahaziel's stock of red hair above the many humans milling about. The angel noticed him as well, coming up to his side and looking around conspiratorially. Protectively. "Right. Where are they?" 

Aziraphale thought for a moment that Jahaziel meant Anathema, but that was quite impossible. He laughed, sliding his arm around the small of his beloved's back and patting his chest. "Nowhere, darling." He placed a chaste kiss on Jahaziel's cheek. "Just wanted to find out where you were."

The angel quickly grasped what was going on since it wasn't the first time this had happened. It had just been long enough to where Jahaziel didn't remember straight off that Aziraphale sometimes used this to get his attention. It was somewhat unfair to spur his more negative emotions over this, but it worked, didn't it? Jahaziel rolled his eyes. "Oh hell. _Imp._ Will you keep just one of the phones that I give you? Maybe activate it and have it on you? This empathetic stuff is so vague and... _old fashioned._ "

"Hmm, _texting_ , though. It’s so impersonal.” Aziraphale wasn’t opposed to phones in general. Talking on them was perfectly fine, and he really did need to keep one on him for that purpose, but his eternal streak of rebelliousness still kept him holding out to this day. “Regardless, I really have met someone I think you'll find quite interesting, my love." He briefly informed Jahaziel of his encounter with Anathema as they walked to Virtuous Crust, leaving out just enough detail to get the angel good and properly intrigued as well. He knew if he mentioned the _Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter_ again, Jahaziel would probably not come along. It admittedly had been a muted obsession of his for quite some time. Now knowing it had a curse of some sort on it, things were _finally_ beginning to fall into place. They walked into the restaurant and were promptly led to a table on the raised part of the restaurant. It was almost empty here at this time of day, luckily, and Aziraphale felt like he couldn't have planned it better. He simply couldn't wait to get into the nitty-gritty of exactly what Anathema had discovered.


	2. Chapter 2

Since they were a bit early, he busied himself by looking at the menu. Jahaziel made himself comfortable, draping his arm over the chair back and legs spread. He looked about the restaurant, eyes catching on the happy shelf of plants lining the wall near the ceiling. “Quaint.”

“Isn’t it _just?_ ” Aziraphale only _barely_ managed to keep the edge of vitriol out of his voice.

Jahaziel must have picked up on _something_ with the way he said it because his shaded slit eyes were on him like a whip. “What?”

The demon didn’t look up from the menu. “Nothing.”

“No, _what?_ ” he said, sounding genuinely confused. “You don’t like it here?”

Aziraphale turned a page of the menu. “I said nothing of the sort.”

Jahaziel’s brow furrowed, his gaze looking slowly over the restaurant, picking up more details he probably hadn’t noticed before.

Aziraphale’s brows climbed up his forehead as he looked down the toppings list on ‘Mac and Cheeza’, so _wholly_ fine. Completely unphased. _Artisanal nut based cheese,_ Satan take him bloody.

“What’s going on?” said the angel, now fully suspicious.

“Hmm?” Aziraphale looked up mildly as if he hadn’t just seen the word ‘tofu bacon.’ “I don’t know what you mean.”

Jahaziel’s eyes narrowed. “Why would we go someplace you don’t like? You like all restaurants… well. Almost all… restau… rants...” He sniffed the air a couple times.

Aziraphale shifted in his seat. Just to favor his left leg. Really.

“Cashew… almond,” the angel mumbled.

Behind his protective shades, Aziraphale’s eyes flicked to him before returning to look at literally _anything_ on the menu that didn’t pretend to be something that it wasn’t. He could feel Jahaziel’s stare bore into him.

“This place is vegan isn’t it?”

Aziraphale cleared his throat gently. “It has vegan _options,_ ” he asserted quietly. He still hadn’t found any proof of that claim, though.

“But you _hate_ places like this!” A smile far too wicked for Jahaziel wormed across his face. “She has something you _really_ want badly, doesn’t she?”

Aziraphale glanced over the rim of his shades at Jahaziel. “Well certainly. A human that can half divine what we are deserves further investigation.”

Because the angel knew him _that well_ though, Jahaziel’s features fell instantly. “No.”

“What?” Aziraphale’s tone was that of picture-perfect innocence, as if he hadn’t just been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“No. No no nononono, please no,” the angel groaned loudly, sitting back in his chair and letting his head fall back. “You did _not_ drag me on _another_ wild Nutter goose-chase, did you?”

Composure breaking, Aziraphale made a show of whacking Jahaziel’s hand that was still on the table with the menu he was _quite_ finished silently criticizing. “Don’t be so negative about it,” he harshly whispered. “This one is actually related to Agnes this time!”

“Oh!” Jahaziel lifted his head to look at him briefly before chuckling helplessly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Cor, really? You mean like the one before last that claimed to be her-” He lifted his hands, counting the fingers on one as he spoke. “-So… so… so-many-greats grand-nephew twice removed? _Come on_ , Azzy!”

“I’m _certain_ this time, alright?” Aziraphale insisted, straightening in his chair and setting down his menu. “As I said, none of the others have had a clue as to what we really are. Not a drop of occultish blood.” He looked at the front door, knowing she’d show up in less than a minute now. A small smile crossed his face. “She could tell almost instantly. I have a good feeling.”

Jahaziel muttered something to himself about Aziraphale’s “good” feelings and maybe going somewhere without ulterior motives once in a while. The demon ignored the little comments in favor of the appearance of Anathema at the front door.

“Now _be cordial_ at least, yes?” Aziraphale requested quietly, his lower eyes dead-set on her as she got closer on the stairs. He knew Jahaziel would be nothing but pleasant, but he still felt the need to ask. “She’s still skittish of me, and you have a far more agreeable air to you.” 

Jahaziel glared at him for a second, silently saying that Aziraphale owed him one big time, before Anathema finally approached their table. She was looking at the air around Jahaziel before he turned, her expression one of gentle, pleasant surprise. 

“Well hello,” she greeted, nod small and smile tight. “Dearest, I presume?”


	3. Chapter 3

Jahaziel’s gaze slid from the woman to Aziraphale with a look that all-too-loudly said _’You actually_ called _me that?’_ across the table. The demon’s own look returned an equally reprimanding _’She isn’t affiliated with either side. She’s a witch, not an angel. Or a demon.’_ Accepting this, though reluctantly, Jahaziel gave in to a nod of his own, sighing and offering his hand. “Yes. Yeah. Jahaziel. Er, Jay. Whichever you prefer. And you must be Anathema.” 

“So it’s been foretold,” Anathema replied easily, pulling up one of the chairs to join them at the end of the table after shaking his hand. Her eyes narrowed curiously. “And you are… Something like him,” finger pointed at Aziraphale. “Somewhat.” Glasses adjusted, she set her own book on the table in front of her, perfectly square. “So I’ve been told.”

Jahaziel’s eyes narrowed in reply, giving another look to the demon before looking back to Anathema again. “Yes. I am…” Dammit, Aziraphale. The angel really thought, after so long, he’d be much more well-adjusted than spilling their secrets to _random bloody strangers._ “An angel. And you’re a witch.”

Anathema cleared her throat quietly, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Yes. Well. I’ve been called worse by better.” The reply to that was two lofted brows and she adjusted her glasses again, sinking into her seat a little. “Joke. But… an angel. And a demon.” A slow breath was let out, and she shook her head, a little incredulous. “That’s certainly a lot more than I ever expected to meet. Somewhere like this. Of all places.” 

“Yeah, and I don’t really get this whole witchy thing, Anathema.” Jahaziel’s posture shifted, leaning over the table now, both elbows resting upon it. “I’ve done my fair share of delving into the occult and I’ve _never_ found anyone worth their salt to speak of. Care to explain that one to me?”

Aziraphale, mortified, shot the angel an admonishing glare and kicked his gold-heeled boot under the table. “Jahaziel, don’t be _rude_ ,” he snapped. “It’s the _one thing_ I asked of you.” Gaze turned apologetically to Anathema. “If you wouldn’t mind explaining it just a little, dear one, I’m sure we would both be very interested in hearing it.”

“Of course.” Anathema seemed the type to get this kind of ridicule on the regular, and Aziraphale had to admire the way she took the criticisms and just went right along. “You are looking for a book. As am I. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.” Jahaziel groaned quietly and received another kick under the table from the demon, which Anathema pointedly ignored. “Your - er. Well. Aziraphale has divined far more than I ever have by pointing out something that’s…” A huff of a laugh. _”Really_ very obvious when I actually think about it. The book is cursed. So much so that it’s been some centuries since anyone has even ever really read the cover of any of the copies. It’s some sort of… cloaking spell, maybe. Which makes an insane amount of sense when you think about it, considering all the copies of the book are pretty much ignored. It isn’t really important enough to do _studies_ on, or anything, but as far as I’ve been able to tell no one has been able to retain any information that they read in the book. Or finish it. Any questions asked about it are either deflected or answered with various kinds of ‘I don’t remember.’” 

Aziraphale slowly nodded. “Yes… As I recall no one can really even tell much more than the title. Other accounts vary on the contents. I believe one such retelling details it as a cookbook of some kind.”

Anathema laughed shortly, shaking her head. “It’s ridiculous. We know there should be prophecies in there. It’s in the title. But why can’t anyone _remember_ that?” She opened her own book to what looked like a page of extensive notes jotted down about this exact subject. Jahaziel and Aziraphale both peered over them, and Anathema continued. “The presence of a curse, at least one _this_ powerful, can be very clearly explained by the existence of a witch. Let alone the fact that _that_ is also in the title.” She looked Jahaziel dead in the eyes at that, smiling tightly. The angel swallowed. “If I believe everything you two have said to me, you are an angel. I am sure you do and have done many, many things humans would question if they saw you do them. Now. That being said. How impossible is it that something exists that’s _unusual_ to you simply because you haven’t had a need to really look for proof of its existence?”

Aziraphale blinked and raised his brow, trying _very_ hard not to let his dark amusement show in the form of a smile or chuckle at Jahaziel being put in his place for once. No one in Hell or Heaven could really do that to either of them (maybe God, since Jahaziel still had a modicum of respect for her.) The demon loved him, but he could be.. a little insensitive towards other supernaturally-inclined individuals sometimes. Probably too many years with Aziraphale.

The skeptical look on his angel's face faded rightly to pink embarrassment. He pulled at loose plastic on the menu corner, clearing his throat softly and fiddling with a bit of his napkin almost sheepishly. "Er. I uh. Well." Aziraphale knew he wanted to keep being sassy just for the petulance of it - he did know the angel almost better than he knew himself - but he thankfully chose the wiser, more polite option going forward. "P...Point taken. That's fair. I suppose."

Satisfied, Anathema sat back, smiling triumphantly at him. Aziraphale had a silent cheer of his own in his mind, but it manifested in a little grin instead. “Great. If you want to doubt my relation to Agnes, I have a family tree as well.” Without further prompting, she pulled a folded piece of parchment out from the back of the book, unfolding it and placing it on the table. Aziraphale, immediately interested, slid it over in front of himself to study.

Jahaziel on the other hand, only nodded meekly. “No. No, I’m… I’m good.” He awkwardly took a sip of the water that had been placed on their table.

The family tree was fairly extensive, Aziraphale had to note. It did indeed branch all the way from Agnes herself, with some… interesting branchwork that he pointed out rather curiously. (It _was_ curious, but he couldn’t say without a guilty conscience that he wasn’t putting off ordering simply so that he didn’t have to see the abominations this establishment decided to call ‘food’ in person. And may have been adding a little extra of his obfuscation magic into the mix so they were ignored too.)

“Ah. Right. Well.” Anathema set aside her own water, moving the tree just so for her to be able to look at it better. “There’s a lot of… bizarre traditions that sometimes go on with witches as far as marriage is concerned. There’s a hand-fasting ritual, for starters. Ah…” She squinted into the air around them. “Different crystals, instead of diamonds. Emeralds,” she looked between them, “emeralds are the stone that represents the heart. Oh, there’s also jumping the broom.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale tipped his head. Jahaziel seemed to be paying more attention now - at least, he wasn’t shooting a scrutinous gaze at the woman every three minutes any longer.

“Yes. They have some… odd names. But I don’t really. I haven’t. I mean. I’m not married.” She laughed again, shaking her head, adjusting her glasses. Cleared her throat. “But. Yes. There’s lots of different traditions. And sometimes those aren’t exactly… Held. To.” She paused, considering her words. “They’re definitely set up to scrutiny. And occasionally time passes and the bride or the groom get nervous and want something official. God’s eyes and all that. But sometimes… They don’t think they’re able to. They didn't think they could get ‘real married’. But they partook in a lot of different traditions. Real as can be to them despite not having... A _blessing_ from upstairs. But that doesn't really matter, when all's said and done. That’s why there are a lot of strange patterns in this tree.”

Aziraphale made a quiet ‘mmm’ of understanding. Having to be wed to that politician had certainly given him all kinds of interesting feelings regarding doing things with Her blessing. He wasn’t even entirely sure if it could have been counted at all. But Jahaziel smiled. “I agree wholeheartedly. And of course it doesn't matter, really. She doesn't give a damn anyway about whom people decide to spend their lives with. Should always be the pure intent that matters. You say you're married, then you're married." He shrugged. “That’s that, then.”

“Quite so,” agreed Aziraphale, refusing to think anything else about his… prior engagement.

Anathema smiled pleasantly, letting a moment of silence stretch between them before she raised a brow. “Are you two…?”

Jahaziel almost choked on his water. Aziraphale didn't know why either, but he couldn't help a stupid silly grin from splitting his face. "Oh I--I mean. Oh my. Well." He looked at Jahaziel over his glasses, laughing. "No one's ever really asked us that before." Humans assumed it constantly, but it was such a tiny semantic that Aziraphale never bothered correcting them. They were together. Simple as that.

"Er." Jahaziel cleared his throat roughly. "Uh." He wiped at his mouth with the napkin from his utensils, fixing Aziraphale with a meaningful look. "I mean. Can't see myself with anyone else. Been seeing one another since the first days of earth. So. Ehm. Yeah. Yeah I suppose we are."

Aziraphale went red up to his ears. ....What? Jahaziel considered them _married?_ They'd never discussed this. Yes, they'd said they belonged together several times but. Still. This was no small matter! He felt a torrent of loving emotion spilling out of him, wondering if someone like Anathema could feel them. He supposed it wasn't really a big deal in the long run, but his angel echoed exactly what he thought once again. They were bound in such a way, to the end of things then past it all. He tilted his head back to keep his damn lower eyes from leaking, taking a steadying breath. Really, he could get emotional later. He had important things to be getting to. He forced himself to keep it to a smile, gently toeing at his angel's ankle as he picked up the menu once more - just to have something distracting. “Yes. I… I would agree with that,” he said softly.

Anathema tried valiantly to not let the laugh or grin show on her face, but she only partially succeeded. She itched at the side of her mouth, opening and closing it before thinning her lips against a silly little smile. Aziraphale had no doubt she thought they were amusing. And he hoped “cute” didn’t enter her mind. They were too old for cute, in his distinguished opinion. He might be an incorrigible sap just for his angel, but that was different. He’d protected monks for Jahaziel in Viking raids at the church in Lindisfarne, and Jahaziel had tempted Ivan the Third into enforcing serfdom for Aziraphale. Aziraphale sternly believed they didn’t garner the word “cute.” They had a vast history. They shared experiences over time that no other beings could. They were _not_ cute. (Though he was distinctly aware that Jahaziel was _definitely_ not prideful enough to think the same way. He’d probably welcome such a comment just to irk the demon.)

“You’re doing it again, by the way,” said Jahaziel after giving one more “ahem,” derailing Aziraphale’s rumination.

The demon’s gaze darted to him, eyes wide behind his glasses. He hadn’t just read his thoughts, had he?

When the silence stretched, Jahaziel gestured over the back of his chair in that lazy, boneless way of his. “The waitress! You’re cloaking us, and she’s forgotten we exist. I want to try this Mac and Cheeza concoction.”

Aziraphale felt, for all intents and purposes, like a prickled blowfish at the moment. He looked back and forth between a now confused Anathema and Jahaziel, who raised his brow. Why have you decided now is the time to become a sadist? was what he wanted to say, but held his tongue, privately glaring at the angel instead. He also wanted to say, _You won’t even try anything new unless I give it to you. What are you playing at?_

“‘Cloaking us’?” echoed Anathema.

Aziraphale set his menu down, interlacing his fingers on the table. “I don’t have the faintest ide--”

“Aziraphale.”

Said supernatural entity clenched his jaw. Instead he pulled back his presence to just affect Anathema, though he probably no longer needed to. He could see the waitress come out of her reverie at the front counter, realize they were up there, and pull out her order notepad as she trotted up the stairs.

They all ordered, Anathema eyeing them with a mixture of intrigue and humor. Aziraphale pointedly ignored the latter. He'd never had the opportunity to be so honest about how he felt for Jahaziel around another party. Old habits feared he'd shown too much, even though the exchanges were so minor. What they had together should have stayed private and safe. He blinked momentarily at that though. That was probably the most prudish thought he'd ever had in his entire existence as a demon.

Once the waitress left with their orders, Aziraphale was about to try asking Anathema what progress she’d made on locating the original book when Jahaziel piped up. “I have to say I’m excited about trying _nut cheese,_ ” he said, enunciating the last bit like an alien having learned an entirely new word.

This time Anathema did laugh, giggling into her newly ordered cup of iced tea.

Lucifer’s great hairy--it was like Jahaziel heard _exactly_ the thoughts he’d had earlier and was just making it worse for fun! He let his hand fall a little too hard on the edge of the table. “I thought _I_ was supposed to be the _demon here,_ ” he hissed in a harsh whisper. 

“To think you humans came up with a way to make something that comes from the earth taste like an animal is just. Just because you miss the taste but don’t want to harm them is. Endlessly creative. I mean, good on you for that bit of work, eh?” Jahaziel asked while looking at Anathema. 

She stopped giggling, looking a little uncomfortable again. 

Aziraphale was actually getting a little miffed now, but something occurred to him once more. “This is because I tricked you into coming again, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes,” Jahaziel breezed easily, giving a sassy little flick of his head, both brows raised in amusement, shit-eating grin in place.

“You’ve been around me too long. I’ve created a monster.”

Jahaziel gave a blowing sigh. “Probably not far off on that, yeah. Just have to deal with the consequences now, hm?”

Aziraphale rubbed the bridge of his nose above his glasses. “Can we _please_ get back to the task at hand?”

“I dunno.” Jahaziel’s gaze slid back over to Anathema. “Do you think we can?”

Aziraphale looked to the ceiling. Oh, now they were resorting to putting the witch in the middle? That was so very rude! Honestly! “I loathe you so much right now.”

“You do not,” drawled Jahaziel, sounding annoyed, but the demon knew him far too well not to realize he was actually hoping Aziraphale didn’t mean that.

The witch’s gaze darted between them the entire time, and her mirth had come back, her head shaking slightly with a lop-sided smile. To her credit, just like earlier, she took everything that she could have been offended by in stride. “Well. I would say congrats on sorting out that you’re married, but I probably won’t at this point.”

Jahaziel laughed heartily at that, and Aziraphale knew he was fully won over to her now. The demon chuckled as well, though strained. As talk progressed and the food-lies were brought to them, Aziraphale actually did make good progress with Anathema in where the real whereabouts of the book were. Where it was last seen by members of her family, who they’d sold it to, and where it had made its way around the country from there through Anathema’s tireless research. As she got into the chains she followed though, Aziraphale found his thoughts start to drift. He knew she was excited, but his thoughts kept going back to the earlier marriage discussion. Despite the little quarrel they’d had, (Aziraphale certainly had that coming) how things had so briefly been said... wouldn't do in his opinion. Just a statement that they were married, and it was done? He supposed that their first night in '69 counted for something, but it wasn't official in any sense. Not like the way Anathema meant. No, it was not enough. He very much needed to speak to Jahaziel about this later.


	4. Chapter 4

“Well. Yes. Thank you.” Aziraphale huffed softly, looking back at Anathema again. “That does make me want to know about those, ah… Witch marriage ceremonies? I find the prospect fascinating.” He wouldn’t admit it, not out loud, but the demon was actually fishing for ideas as to what sort of weddings would befit supernatural beings. 

“I’m interested too,” Jahaziel piped up, shifting in his seat as he continued to eat (much to Aziraphale’s disgust), “you mentioned hand...binding? And… something about a broom?”

“Right, yes.” Anathema turned to a different page in her book, running over the text with her finger. “Hand fasting is… Well, to put it simply, you bind your hands together. So you’re not _wrong_ , I guess.” She cleared her throat. “The literal interpretation of tying the knot, as it were. You take fabric. Or cord, or lace, or some kind of rope or string that has significance to you. Family heirloom, gifted by a close family member, made of something special, things like that. Then you have someone… or many people, bind it around your hands. It’s all very symbolic. Once you’re bound, you recite your vows, wiggle your hands free, and keep the knot that comes from it.” She looked up, smiling between the two of them. “I like that one a lot.”

Aziraphale nodded thoughtfully. That one did sound rather nice to him, and yet he struggled to imagine some kind of binding force that could possibly be symbolic enough for them. Something to think about, to be sure.

“And the broom one?” Jahaziel urged.

“That one’s a bit simpler. The couple jump over a broom placed at an angle in a doorway to… symbolize a new beginning. And sweeping away the past. It’s an African ceremony that a lot of other cultures participate in in the interest of… tightening their bonds.”

Sweeping away the past, hm. Not that Aziraphale thought their past was worth sweeping away - parts of it, certainly. But not the whole thing. Interesting, to be sure, but it didn’t seem like _enough._

Once Anathema brought things back around to where she believed the book to be, possibly being shown at a silent online auction based out of Seattle, they’d finished their food. Well the two of them had. Aziraphale picked everything off the pizza bread. At least _that_ wasn’t entirely abysmal. “Ahh… most definitely promising, I must say. I have to thank you wholeheartedly for sharing this information with us.”

Anathema smiled gently, dipping her head. “It’s not like anyone else really cares. It’s only important to me and well. Avid demon collectors.” She looked between the two of them. “Er. Um. I’d like to stay in contact with the two of you as well. If, ah. That’s alright?”

The question… genuinely surprised Aziraphale. He’d think she’d be done with this odd encounter with them and never think about it again. Just another odd occurence in her otherwise odd life as an occultist.

Jahaziel blinked before he grinned, looking at Aziraphale briefly. “Why... I think that’s more than alright.” He sat forward and extended a hand to her. She hesitated only for a second before taking it, and he covered it with his other hand. “Not everyday we can make a sharp-witted human friend, you know. Your lot’s hard to come by.”

Aziraphale nodded, reaching forward to gently touch her forearm for just a second. “I’d certainly agree. We’d love to keep in touch.”

Anathema’s cheeks finally showed real signs of reddening. She covered his second hand with her own, giving him an earnest squeeze. “Good. That’s. _Ahem._ Good.” 

The demon felt Jahaziel side-eyeing him. Aziraphale refused to really look at him until the moment he let go of Anathema’s hand. "As to how we keep in contact rather..." He cleared his throat, glancing out of the corner of his eye at his angel. He could practically hear Jahaziel mentally saying, ‘Do it. Give in. If not for me, then do it for her.’ "I suppose this will suffice." He snapped, and a flip phone that had been collecting dust on his desk in London for eleven years fell into his open hand. He pointedly ignored the small fist-pump and "yes" Jahaziel made. Aziraphale didn't need to activate a service since the phone was naturally going to work for him anyway. And he had the perfect number in mind as well. "Number's 132-9527."

Jahaziel frowned for just a moment before his eyes widened in realization, and Aziraphale smiled lop-sidedly at him. He knew the angel would recognize the number. The right ascension of the smudged Whirlpool galaxy on Jahaziel's Egyptian chart. The only star coordinates the demon really bothered to remember. His angel grinned so fondly at him, looking perfectly gorgeous.

Anathema tapped the number into her own phone, making a soft _pop_ sound with her mouth before putting it away and smiling. “Should get a text from me in a moment. Feel free to send something my way whenever you’d like.” The smile disappeared for a moment, look turning thoughtful. “And… maybe. If you find the book. Let me know.” 

“Of course, Ms. Device.” They both stood from the table. Jahaziel gave Anathema another big grin, and Aziraphale bid her farewell with a warm handshake and shoulder squeeze. "We'll certainly be seeing you soon, my dear. Mind how you go this evening.”

\----

With a wave to them both, Anathema headed off. A few minutes later, as they teleported with Aziraphale’s snap, they walked onto the sidewalk of Black Friars Lane from yet another alleyway. The familiar noises, sights, and scents of the London area filled the demon’s senses. It was close to midnight here, and the streets were getting relatively quieter (as much as they could in central London.) They walked south towards his corner church and home, but it was a good distance yet. There were things that Aziraphale felt needed to be addressed.

Jahaziel learned a lot today. In theory, the angel loved learning. He loved it almost as much as humans did and, in general, loved being able to learn something new. Coming from a place that prided itself on its omniscience, being proven wrong was often a delight. But in practice, most of the time, learning things just led to more questions. Well now, he supposed Aziraphale had a direct line to someone that could provide answers about the book he was so intent on finding. But with how little even Anathema seemed to know about it, he feared they would only lead to more questions. These thoughts nearly drowned him, and as such, he kept uncharacteristically quiet for most of their walk.

Aziraphale eyed a pensive Jahaziel, gaze flicking down to his ring as they walked at a leisurely pace. Better to just get straight to the point. “My dear, you told me you had two reasons you wore that ring. First being for the humans in 1967.” He didn’t know why he was nervous to ask this. He’d realize later he was just afraid he still wouldn’t be told the truth. Or, selfishly on the demon’s part, that the reason wouldn’t be at all related to how Jahaziel felt about him. That it’d be something mundane like, ‘It’s a snake, I’m a snake, so why not?’ Surely if he kept the secret for so long there had to be a deeper reason.

When Aziraphale began speaking Jahaziel had to wake himself up a little, looking over just a bit too quickly and pulling all his focus in on his demon. The effort was so great he didn't quite process the beginning of his remark right away, and the initial response before Aziraphale even asked anything was a sort of weak "Uhh" sound. But he noticed the apprehension, and his head rocked to the side curiously, puzzled little frown forming. He looked at the ring on his hand, then back up again. "Right. 1967. Fantastic year for humans. Well. More or less."

Aziraphale had, of course, the obvious reason for bringing it back up again. The talk of marriage and how simply it was brought up before seemed too… Too short. Unsolved. It deserved a better discussion just between the two of them. It wasn’t something that happened on either side. Demons and angels had relationships… sometimes. Usually for mutual gain. Which was sort of what they had. But it had definitely become more. Aziraphale found the concept of something binding like marriage so very endearing (if you didn’t get caught up in the legality and messiness that humans so often fell into.) And he had to admit he’d never thought about such things in real seriousness until meeting Anathema today. Jahaziel and Aziraphale just. Were. They fit. It was simple, wasn’t it? “What is the other reason you wear it?” he finally pressed on.

As the demon finally got to his real query, Jahaziel looked at the ring again, spinning it with his index finger idly. Really, he hadn't intended to tell him the second reason - but it had become moot not much longer after he'd decided there _was_ a second reason. And now, more than ever, it seemed important to clear the air on what had really changed. "It was for you.” Suddenly nervous himself, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and held himself a little defensively: cool, aloof, and, of all things, a bit shy. 

Aziraphale would have missed the flicker of vulnerable embarrassment in the angel’s voice if he didn’t know him so well. It was so rarely seen, but a less than honorable part of the demon never let himself forget it. Looking for weaknesses was innate in demons, but his acute sense was perfectly tuned to better purposes. Especially for reading Jahaziel. It helped him see best now how to cut to the quick of their rare real arguments, but most importantly, how Aziraphale could best protect him. 

The angel cleared his throat quietly, continuing. “At first it was to remind myself what was at stake. Being with you. It was a warning.” There was a pause, and he clicked his tongue. “That I couldn’t do anything to jeopardize what we had. I couldn’t risk - I couldn’t risk losing it for any reason. Be that Heaven or Hell or even just you not feeling the same way. But, Azzy--”

He stopped walking, turning towards Aziraphale and grabbing his wrist to stop him, pulling him just a bit closer. 

To hear his hopes confirmed that the ring was indeed for the demon had Aziraphale’s full attention. When they stopped, he listened, willingly drawn closer, pinned still by the angel’s obscured gaze. Jahaziel echoed similar sentiments Aziraphale had towards what they had together. It was easier for the demon to hide this from Downstairs, but Jahaziel obviously had a much harder time. He thanked Someone all the time that he’d perfected his obfuscation spell so long ago for this very reason.

Of course, Jahaziel knew the inherent risks of taking his chances with a demon. But, as he'd explain as many times as he needed to, this wasn't just any demon. This was Aziraphale, the once-angel that had gone to literal Hell and back and claimed to only make the visit to see him smile again. If that wasn't worth the risk, worth the trouble of possibly being more exposed to him than anyone, Jahaziel would take it. No questions. It was always worth it when it came to Aziraphale. The redhead looked into his demon’s eyes through two pairs of sunglasses, but nothing was more clear. “When you came for the moon landing. Gave me the Hellfire. Spent the night. It… it ah…” A gentle nod began. “It changed. The ring’s still for you. But it’s not a warning anymore. It’s a promise.” It felt a little like baring himself, but there was nothing that could stop the force behind what the ring - and the person it stood for - meant to him. “A promise made to keep fighting for what I believe to be right. What I believe in.” He thought about that for a moment, glancing off briefly and smiling. “I believe in us.” Them against Heaven and Hell, at first. But now… His gaze turned back to Aziraphale, smile growing wider. “Us, just as in… _Us.”_

When Jahaziel finished, Aziraphale gritted his teeth briefly against the sting in his eyes once more. Fierce love and his own determination for his echoed belief in them and what was right coiled in his chest, intermixing. He loved that ring so much more than he had minutes prior. Aziraphale looked up at his angel again. While they were fitting, he hated those rose glasses, if he was being totally honest. Eyes were indeed the windows to the soul as the saying went, and it couldn’t be truer for someone with four of them. Jahaziel’s were always so expressive. Open and telling. Perhaps they were that way just for Aziraphale alone, and he suspected that that had been true for a long time. 

For now, he squeezed one of Jahaziel’s hands, letting a wide grin split his face for a moment. He gently patted the angel’s chest with his other hand. “So do I, my love.” His gaze lingered on his own hand. He could simply snap a ring for himself into existence, but this was far too important. Ideas for similar betrothals that Anathema described started flitting about his mind. They deserved it, didn’t they? But a ceremony of some kind...?

No. That didn’t really suit them. Instead, he lifted the hand with the ring, getting a better look at it. “I wish I thought of something similar long ago.”

The same thoughts of the things their unexpected new friend had mentioned came to Jahaziel, but he stopped himself from getting too entrenched. A lot of what had been said didn’t make much sense to him though really. Marriage wasn’t something that needed to be set so _seriously_ in his eyes. Humans from all walks went above and beyond to prove this devotion not only to one another, but to appease God. But that seemed so unnecessary to him. It was just something that _was._ He realized then he’d felt similarly for quite some time.

“You know…” His words were thoughtful - and almost the slightest bit _guilty._ “I think I married you quite a long time ago. In my mind, we’ve always been married. At least a little bit.” A slow nod began. “Even through our arguments or disagreements… Our decades of not speaking.” Despite everything having been smoothed over in those regards, his heart held so much regret for those years.

Aziraphale’s enchanted smile faded somewhat. He felt much the same as the angel. That silent time period between them in the 1800s hadn’t happened too long ago - relitively at least for two that were immortal. And the demon had chosen to forget most of it for more than a hundred reasons. However, it did serve to remind him that what they had was indeed far more special, concrete, and, most importantly, worth protecting than anything else they could ever fabricate alone.

“You’ve always been the first and most important person to me," Jahaziel began again, "I know humans like to make things ‘official’. I know they like to earn the grace of God with their actions. But marriage isn’t and shouldn’t ever be a thing someone has to verify. I said as much to our new friend earlier. If you want to give your life to someone, that desire should be the only thing that matters. And that’s what I’ve done. I said we were married… Because I feel like we _are._

“But - _Aziraphale.”_ He squeezed the hand holding his, looking into his eyes. “I have no doubts in my mind that you _did_ think something similar. I just like to _show off.”_ Jahaziel grinned a little impishly, wiggling his fingers in Aziraphale’s grasp. He could go on for hours about how Aziraphale not having a ring meant less to him than anything else they’d ever done together, but the object seemed to stick with the demon - it’d be in poor taste to downplay it now. Though it did give him a slew of ideas. 

The demon’s smile trembled a bit. Oh he loved him so. He breathed a laugh, studying the hand in his. “You’re quite right,” he said gently. “Silly of me to get caught up on something so obvious, hm?” And when Jahaziel read him perfectly, saying he knew Aziraphale had thought of something similar to the ring, the demon did laugh more earnestly. “You never really were one for subtlety, even when hiding from a higher authority.”

There was a gentle shake of the angel’s head, and an equally gentle smile. It wasn't silly at all, in Jahaziel's mind. It was a thought he should have perhaps shared much sooner - he hadn't intended to take Aziraphale by _surprise_ with it, and maybe it was a little bit of wishful thinking to just assume he felt the same way, regardless of that being very much fact.

“We’re here - among humans, talking about very human traditions. There is nothing I’d like more than to adhere to them with you in any way deemed appropriate. If there’s one thing I’ve learned… It’s never too late to express your fondness for someone.” Aziraphale himself had taught him that lesson. Another thought dawned on the angel. “It’s our anniversary soon, isn’t it?” A smile beamed. “We have time to do this right, if that’s a sentiment we share.”

Naturally Aziraphale had had those little fantasies many thousands of times over thousands of years. They were more of a basal thing, not very serious. But it was a topic he quietly admired about humans. Call him sentimental, but he spent so much time watching them, reading their epics and imaginative stories that almost always carried some inclusion of love. Their sappy, sentimental traditions, symbols like rings, hearts, occasionally ankhs, Celtic love knots – the list went on and on. They all reminded him of the eternal bond he’d had ripped from him. Not that he’d admit he missed that with God, but they’d all been forged in it. Even if they were more surface level emotions, angels still did exchange feelings of love, bonding, and affection as easily as breathing. How could Aziraphale not miss it? Those feelings had become entirely solitary to him, something he could only feel within himself and never again share in the way he was meant to.

When he found his heart reaching out again though, for Jahaziel, such physical symbols humans had started to mean all the more to him. Since he couldn’t feel it around him, representations he could see were the next best reminder of that one shared part of being that he’d never have again. He supposed he could explain all this to Jahaziel someday but… seemed a bit too existential to discuss on a London street corner. “No. You’re absolutely right. It never is too late.” At the mention of their anniversary, Aziraphale grinned from ear to ear, mirroring Jahaziel’s smile. Yet another very human tradition, indeed. He pulled back just a bit. So many ideas were already beginning to flit around in his mind. “We do share it, my dear.”

They had time. They could do this right.

With a warm parting between them, the two headed off to their respective living quarters to plan what was to be a wedding celebration between the most unlikely pair ever imagined.


	5. Chapter 5

Aziraphale walked the rest of the way to his church, a lightness and excitement to his step.

That feeling didn’t last long though.

The many ideas turned into a whirlwind. Time went way too fast, and the demon experienced a certain shade of panic that overwhelmed that of recent events. Every single bit of human marriage paraphernalia littered the floor in front of his empty podium. He paced in front of them like a trapped animal. His glasses had been flung to some odd end of his office hours ago. His curly hair stuck out at odd angles from being run through by fingers so many times. He was currently test-wearing ancient Egyptian betrothal silks for a man, which already felt too old fashioned and he knew he wasn’t going to use. Hung on the podium was a ridiculously extravagant cream wedding dress from the sixties that he’d already tried and deemed too garish. The train alone was longer than Queen Mary the First’s! The smaller items he’d thought of during their last talk lined the little step down in front of the dress, spanning all of human history.

Aziraphale covered his face with both hands, crouching in front of them all. “It’s not _good enough!!”_ he groaned in frustration into his palms. Letting his hands drop, he stared once more at the items. He’d known Jahaziel for so long. This should be easy, the easiest thing he’d ever done! Why did he suddenly feel like he didn’t know his own angel?!

He let out a sigh. When it came down to it, thousands of years of fantasy hadn’t helped him actually plan one bit. He did hope Jahaziel was faring better right now… He had to get himself together and just _think._

Fifteen or sixteen outfit changes, some shenaniganry with a certain astronomy society, and three days later, Aziraphale had finally tossed all the garments to one corner of the chapel with a wrist flick. Left in his normal egg shell undershirt and slacks, he plopped down in the nearest pew. He stared at the final outfit in front of him, glad at least something had ended up being appropriate, in his opinion. He looked once more to the human romantic paraphernalia on the step. He’d lingered longest on the ring, but Hazi already had one. He’d also thought of popping off to one of the finest Turkish goldsmiths he knew of to get his angel something entirely unique made. Jahaziel did like his golden bangles. But… he felt he’d have done that regardless of the occasion. He did get him his gold cufflinks after all. “Too redundant,” he muttered to himself once more. “Not meaningful enough.”

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to look away from the outfit, the items, his church, everything. He leaned forward onto his knees, rubbing his palms pensively together. He _knew_ he was overthinking this, once again. He could practically hear Jahaziel already saying the same thing too if he were to see him like this.

There were only really three simple facts of the matter he really needed to be focusing on. One, this didn’t need to be perfect, because the entire point was that neither of them _were,_ much like humans. But they _weren’t_ human either. Two, he knew Jahaziel had always been perfectly happy with words and the simple things, as long as they meant something significant to either or both of them. And three… this was far more serious on a supernatural scale than they were really taking into account. Aziraphale knew it was only a matter of time before his angel finally fell. Made widely known or not, being this sort of attached to Aziraphale could only mean it would happen faster.

And finally, with that clearing of thought, Aziraphale’s eyes widened. What was imperfect but something only Aziraphale could give to him? The only real good thing in existence about himself that he trusted with no one. Something that meant more to Aziraphale than his current version. The only thing that could always connect them, no matter how they or the world changed.

Tentative smile coming to his face, he snapped away the other marriage items, waving a hand up and down his body to don his chosen outfit once more. He strode to his office in the back for the mirror, surveying it one more time. All four of his eyes scrutinized the garment and his look until they came to rest on themselves. Yes… yes this finally felt right.

It was with no small amount of giddiness that he picked up the phone, ringing Jahaziel to get their own special ceremony in motion.

\----

Meanwhile, as Aziraphale pondered over his gifts, Jahaziel’s first evening away from the demon was filled with a lot of research. Much less of a visual learner than Aziraphale was, he found comfort in the many books and web pages he had open, diving in head first and poring over every bit of literature available to him. Though it was quite some hours into the evening that he sat back from it all, pushed the words and images from his mind, and let himself think. He was approaching this at far too broad an angle. There were plenty of things that made sense to humans. It was only just now that he allowed himself to think that the gesture didn't have to be quite as grand as he was thinking. ...In fact, he much rather preferred something smaller. As long as it meant something to them, that was really all that mattered, wasn't it?

He opened another book he’d brought to his desk with him, pausing for a moment as he stared at it. Rather than absorb anything the literature offered to him, his mind wandered - thinking about anything and everything he knew about Aziraphale and what sort of things meant what kind of things to him. All he’d learned over these many centuries. His introspection brought up the good, the bad, the great, and the ugly, and it was in these thoughts that a smile curled onto his face. He suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to do. Steps a shade under hurried took him to one of the closets in his office, wading through globes of star placements and other celestial paraphernalia to the very back of it. Pushing a large projector screen out of the way, he knelt in front of a very large, very _old_ trunk that had an equally old-looking lock on it. After some fiddling, tweaking the proper mechanisms to do so, he unlocked it, sliding it out from the loop and lifting the lid. A smile wider than the last overtook his features, and he scooped out the contents.

The scrolls were rather unwieldy but he managed to get them onto his desk, ancient dust scattering across the open books he had laid out. A gold cap on the end popped off and skittered across the desk, Jahaziel shooting out his hand to stop it before it clattered to the floor. Once in his hand another idea formed, and he tossed the cap into the air and caught it with a laugh. He had some phone calls to make, and some research to do.

It took the rest of the three days to get everything sorted out, but he could confidently say at the end of them, with a ring in and a very official-looking paper folded up in his breast pocket, he was both proud and pleased with what he’d managed. Now all he needed to do was wait for the call from Aziraphale.

He had just finished getting into his own spiffy outfit - a little more fancy than he usually went, but still the usual colour scheme. It was a special occasion, true. But he still felt it befitting to stick to his black. He was trying to decide if he should have swapped his scarf for something a little dressier when his phone rang. He rolled his eyes fondly at the number displayed on the screen, tapping to answer.

"You've got Jay," he greeted warmly, smiling, and sure that in spite of everything Aziraphale could feel every ounce of love he was feeling at the moment.

He could hear the same in Aziraphale’s voice as he spoke. “What would you say to a trip to Mauna Kea, my dear?”

"Hawaii. How humanly exotic." And Jahaziel grinned. "Sounds perfect. Meet you there or are we traveling together?" Though the angel would have to admit, he'd have a very difficult time not talking about his discoveries, what he'd learned, or what he'd ended up doing for Aziraphale before they even got to where they were going. It was just... the natural order of things. He told Aziraphale everything. He'd want so very badly to spill the beans on this immediately. He was just so proud of himself. So eager and excited to share what he'd done.

But that was no good. He couldn't share this with him before it was time. As much as he wanted to there had to be some element of surprise to it. Otherwise it was just like every other thing he'd ever done for the demon, and that just would not do.

"On second thought," he interrupted, "I'll meet you there. Have a few more things to square down first." He paused. "Or is it square up? Square... in some direction, yes. Either way." Oh, someone, he was suddenly nervous. To think something like himself could have cold feet. He wasn't backing out, never - he just wanted to make sure everything was tip top. Perfect. Well, as perfect as he could make it. This was a big deal! Not as big of a deal as Aziraphale seemed to make it, but - big enough that he didn't want to ever wonder if he could have done more, or better. "I will see you soon."

He hung up, looking at himself in the mirror one final time. His outfit was perfect, there was no debating that. He just. He really wanted this to be something remembered. When the world ended... Jahaziel wanted to make sure this was the thing he'd done right. It wasn't a moment later that he'd snapped himself away, greeted by the cool evening air of Mauna Kea. He was alone, just for the moment he assumed - smelling the faint salt in the mountain air and smiling to himself as he waited for his beloved to join him.


	6. Chapter 6

Once Aziraphale hung up from Jahaziel, the anxiety of the past couple days vanished in bubbling excitement and low undercurrents of guilt. He made a phone call to the Gemini Observatory on Mauna Kea again, reconfirming with the staff if the observatory did indeed close to the public at 9:30pm and asking if they knew it would be fair weather that evening. The person that answered (someone he’d previously talked to) answered him with a long-suffering assent that yes, they closed then, and, _yes,_ it was still supposed to be 100% ideal conditions tonight. The human went on to say that they really didn’t accept civilian calls to this department, and that if Aziraphale called _one more time,_ he was going to do something or other. But the demon wasn’t listening anymore, hanging up with an interrupting “yes, yes, thank you.” In another world he would have despaired over being slightly rude to any living creature. But he was a demon. And dammit, it was his marriage day; he could be short if he needed to be. There was no time to waste! 

He knew Jahaziel was probably there already. The demon called over his little marble globe from a dresser in the corner of his office. It hovered in mid-air in front of him as he rifled through his new suit’s inner pockets. He assured himself that the two things he needed were there, then he glanced at his pocket watch. 7:31am here, 9:31pm in Hawaii. Perfect. He looked to the little globe, found the big island of Hawaii, and focused on it. Having never been there in person, he needed a simple frame of reference as to where he was going.

With an ascending snap, he appeared on the front step of the Mauna Kea Gemini Observatory. Low lying tropical clouds covered the rest of the big island except for a couple more distant peaks. The light of the gibbous moon and stars were in full brilliance, the sun having set three hours prior. The chill of the high altitude was entirely lost on him, but he certainly appreciated the crispness. He didn’t spot Jahaziel until he turned around, seeing his angel six meters away just at the edge of the road. He was looking up at the sky, facing the opposite direction. 

The demon closed the distance, naturally silent, until he got within a meter. He felt the nerves threatening to claw at his limbs. Jahaziel had dressed up too, and yet he was still so himself. So perfect. Aziraphale himself had chosen another cream suit, but this one was a couple shades lighter. He had a black undershirt—not his usual choice, but wearing it reminded him so much of Jahaziel that how could he _not_? On a day like today? He also wore a bowtie much like his normal gold and diamond tie, the threads of gold brighter in this one. A red tipped white rose adorned his left lapel, signifying unity. “Don’t turn around quite yet,” he said, hoping he didn’t scare the angel. He didn’t want to get this wrong. This had to be done properly.

Visibly perking up once he heard his demon's voice, Jahaziel smiled, doing as he was told and not whirling around on the spot. He stood patiently, hands in his pockets, just admiring the sky displayed to him. "Demons can get into a lot of trouble for sneaking up on angels," he mused quietly, but Aziraphale could clearly hear the fondness in his voice, and Jahaziel would wager he himself was practically glowing with excitement and love enough to betray the tease.

With one quick look around, spell obfuscation to any employees, and a deep calming breath, Aziraphale reached for his glasses out of habit, finding he still hadn’t put them back on since he tossed them away days ago. So instead, he stepped forward and took Jahaziel’s shoulders, gently directing him to face south.

Jahaziel instinctively wanted to sink against the owner of said hands, but he instead moved where guided, managing to confine his affections to a single hand placed over one of Aziraphale's own. He wasn't sure where this was going quite yet, but he was incredibly excited.

Aziraphale forced his now pounding heart to calm down. His hands shook lightly with excitement. He took the first item out of his inner breast pocket. “Ehm. I uh,” he tried, irritated with himself. He miracled the stress hormones away for the moment. “I found out through some inquiries that, incidentally, our anniversary happens to land on the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn with Corvus this year.”

Checking his own pocket for his needed items, as if Aziraphale had somehow snuck the papers he had brought _out_ , Jahaziel paused at the revealed information, and sure enough - this was a new form. A very charmed and enchanted smile spread across his face, eyes twinkling almost as much as the stars themselves. 

Aziraphale stepped a touch closer, saying gently into his angel’s ear, “I had them name this phenomenon ‘the Starmaster’s Dove.’ But, ah. Never been good at naming things, me. We can always change it if you don’t fancy that since I bought the rights to the stars themselves.”

"Would you look at that," Jahaziel breathed, mumble overtaken by the information delivered oh so intimately as his eyes took in what was, indeed, the aforementioned starset.

This wasn’t anywhere near as eloquent as Aziraphale was hoping for though. Did he not _just_ miracle away his nerves? He held the folded up paper to his angel that stated the rights for the name of the alignment and the constellation belonged to both Jay H. Ziel and A. Z. Fell. “I thought it quite fitting. These stars were another group of yours, yes? Created by you for Someone else.” He looked from the planets and stars to the side of Jahaziel’s face. “But now… they belong to us.”

Be still, this damn heart of Jahaziel’s. "It's perfect," he whispered, taking the paper and delicately unfolding it, smiling down at the official documentation presented to him. The name, the stars, everything. He felt so full, and they'd barely begun to do anything! "No, Aziraphale. It's perfect. They're - another favorite of mine. ...Of ours."

The _sheer quash_ of relief Aziraphale experienced made the past 5 days of work and anxiety so very worth it. He let out a grateful sigh.

Jahaziel closed his eyes, smiling and clutching the paper before tucking it into his pocket, grabbing the one he'd brought along with him after staring at their constellation for a few moments longer. He turned to face the demon, clearing his throat softly. "Likewise, I of course have something for you. Though it... Ha," he scratched at his tattoo a little bit nervously, "it seems a little underwhelming now." He was just so unspeakably touched by the demon's gesture that anything he'd done or thought of felt incredibly _lame_ by comparison.

When his angel turned to face him, Aziraphale took a brief moment to rake his gaze fully up and down his beloved. They were a perfect inverted mirror of one another’s suits, and Someone, Jahaziel looked _absolutely_ stunning. Fondness bloomed like the flower sitting on his own lapel, trying to contain his excitement and mask it with his usual stoic patience - though it was much like a dog trying not to tear after a freshly thrown branch.


	7. Chapter 7

Not really having quite the same introduction prepared as Aziraphale did, Jahaziel cleared his throat again and offered the paper to him. It stated in very clear terminology that one 'A.Z. Fell' had made a very generous and groundbreaking donation to the Smithsonian Institute of what was described as 'invaluable' literature. There was a multitude of genuine and heartfelt thank yous and signatures to accompany it. "Found I still had some of the things we rescued from the library fire tucked away.”

Aziraphale certainly couldn’t deny how excited he was. Demons just _did not_ receive gifts of this sort, and Aziraphale had been uncommonly lucky to have received many. Even so, Jahaziel’s were always his favorite. (If the angel could hear that line of thought though, he would have surely teased him, saying Jahaziel was the _only_ person that gave him gifts. For that avoided eye-roll, the demon was grateful.) And things from Alexandria? Oh, naturally, this one he was sure would be a contender for the top shelf.

“I,” Jahaziel continued, “I was going to give them to you for your collection. But..." He recalled now, as he did upon first visiting the idea, how _devastated_ Aziraphale had been for humanity - not himself - to lose that information. "I thought this a more acceptable avenue. A better gesture." He winced a little. "I hope you don't mind."

Aziraphale’s face slackened when he heard the explanation and noted the signatures. He took the paper, speed reading it half a dozen times. His first reaction was that he felt bad for not thinking of something similar in the first place. _I hope you don’t mind_ rattled in the demon’s skull.

The drawn silence had the angel holding his breath, fighting every nerve to not wring his hands or try to backpedal. He was proud of his accomplishment. Not for himself, but for what he'd hope it would mean to Aziraphale. Seeing the tears gather at the corners of the demon’s eyes, however, had him hopeful - at least he would assume they weren't tears of anger.

Aziraphale couldn’t—he couldn’t begin to find the words to— Jahaziel had done for him the one thing Aziraphale could never do under his current overlords, no matter how lackadaisical they were on his day to day activity. Demons could not give humans knowledge of any kind, mainly to protect Hell’s secrets in the long run. Plus that was considered charity; couldn’t be caught discorporated doing that. Certainly, the demon had considered concocting a way to donate his collection if there were another group of humans trustworthy and skilled enough as the Alexandrians had been. And the Smithsonian came damn close. Somehow, he could construe in a way that Downstairs approved of. He just had to figure it out. But he never could. Over time, he’d even gotten possessive over it all. Greedy, just like his former boss. Can’t give it up, then there was no point dreaming about it or letting anything go.

But he didn’t have to. _Jahaziel gave knowledge back for him._ He looked up at his angel, feeling a tacky chill on his cheeks, not even having realized tears had fallen. He got a hold of himself, letting out a choked laugh before clearing his throat and wiping the tears away. “Damn. Ah. No, my love. It’s not underwhelming at all. This means a very great deal to me.” He wanted to kiss him so badly right now. But he didn’t suppose it was time for that yet. “ _Thank you._ Really.”

A relieved smile came to Jahaziel, shaking his head. "Of course. I know how much it meant to you. I'd have given more, if I had it." He put a hand on the demon's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "All was not lost, though." Humans would have a name to thank for it too. They would never know, nor have need to know, that the very benefactor of this knowledge was the one that endangered it to begin with. Jahaziel so desperately wanted to help soothe some of that ache he knew, somewhere, the demon still carried. 

Aziraphale began to reach for the item still left in his inner pocket. His emotions whirled. 

The air around them stilled into seriousness, and Jahaziel took careful note of it. It wasn't a bad seriousness, no - certainly less serious than any of the usual they put up with. But it was different. Sobering. Humbling.

Aziraphale didn’t have words rehearsed for this part. Nothing as rehearsed as the very planned out stars and planets. He took the little rolled up cloth from his pocket, holding it in both hands. This little writing meant so many things. It was from before he Fell. Before he’d ever had to lie to Jahaziel. Before anything got complicated. When he could still feel others’ love. It may not have had any power left in it, but it could still mark him if he did fall. If anyone was really looking for it.

Should he kneel? He shook himself from the thought. No. They’d both done enough of that in their lives. He picked at the frayed edges of the light tan fabric. “Jahaziel…” 

Jahaziel looked up from the fabric in Aziraphale's hands, giving him his undivided attention.

Aziraphale gently took his angel’s glasses off, magically waving them off to sit in a quiet spot for now. He wanted to see his eyes for this. “My Hazi… You know as well as I that I could talk about how much I love you until the sun itself burned out. Though I’ll spare you of that today,” he added with a short laugh, unable to stand how nervous he was right now. 

Jahaziel laughed a little as well, though admittedly would have loved nothing more than for his own reason to reciprocate the diatribe. But he quieted again, expression falling into interest as Aziraphale continued.

“I will admit that I… I spent an inordinate amount of time scouring my libraries and the earth for something I could give you. Nothing that exists says all that I feel for you in a single item that you don’t already have.” He took a steadying breath, not wanting to start rambling. “So I thought of things that are no longer here. Something that no one, not even Hell or Heaven, will remember once all the universe goes cold.” He took Jahaziel’s hand, placing in his palm the cloth, closing the hand around it with both of his own. He no longer hid any of his affection, adoration, or pure ardor hiding in his heart. He bared it as plain as the stars above. He bared it like he once had when the writing on this cloth had real power. 

The words he spoke were so careful and heartfelt that the angel had a difficult time not getting emotional right then and there. Especially not when he felt the love wash over him, nearly bringing him to his knees, letting his hand be moved as his brows knit. He couldn't think of anything more beautiful in this moment, but he had been surprised before - and would be, again.

“And here it is. The last thing good about me,” Aziraphale finished in words barely above a whisper. He squeezed Jahaziel’s hands before letting go. He allowed the angel to now look at Aziraphale’s old holy sigil inscribed on the cloth, unseen for 6,000 years.

Jahaziel’s eyes widened considerably at what he saw. Stunned into silence, it was a long moment before the redhead found the ability to reply. 

Aziraphale had a tiny, brief moment of dread that his angel would finally realize what he meant. That he was, in the end, a fallen thing not deserving of his love.

"Aziraphale..." Jahaziel whispered back, his words touched with a gravity he hadn’t even known he possessed. "There is _so much_ that is good about you." 

There were many times Jahaziel had said the same sentiments that Aziraphale either fondly rolled his eyes at or tutted him for speaking too loud about it. 

This was so very different though. This being the last evidence that he’d once been something more than a specter in Hell was a truth he’d wanted to believe ever since he got there. Perhaps delude himself into believing. It was the only thing that had kept him from succumbing to raging madness before he’d become real friends with Jahaziel. The only physical reminder that he might still know real right from wrong.

But it broke the angel’s heart in the most human of ways to hear him say such a thing, to believe for even a moment that his goodness was _finite_ and had run out simply because he had fallen. Jahaziel felt wetness fill his eyes, unwilling to blink and spill it, though the slightly shaken roughness in his voice did well enough to take the place of tears as he looked up at him again. "You are the only being in any realm that I have ever once considered to be my equal. And the only being in any realm I have ever once considered devoting myself to." God had no place here. This was entirely theirs. Jahaziel was entirely his own to give. And he would, a hundred thousand times over. "There is _so much_ goodness in you. There always has been. I see it. I _feel_ it." 

Those familiar statements finally struck true like they were always supposed to, hitting Aziraphale like bittersweet arrows.

Jahaziel closed his eyes, those tears finally falling, and he held the cloth close. "But that you would believe this to be the only remaining proof of it... and that you would give-" A short, soft breath, and he shook his head, clearing his throat. "Ah. Give it to me." What did one even say to that? What words were good enough? At the risk of his emotions boiling over in an explosive fit he simply nodded, drawing in and letting out a shaking breath. "I. I accept, Aziraphale." And with that there was absolutely no hiding his own feelings for the demon. There was nothing that could have stopped the torrent of love and devotion and the strength of both he felt in those moments. 

Aziraphale could have broken down weeping, releasing thousands of years of doubt and fear right then and there. He somehow restrained it to looking up at the Starmaster’s Dove to keep the tears in, keeping his breathing even. A small, very brief sob did escape him, pressure in his throat almost unbearable. Were they really supposed to cry this much at such a happy occasion? But oh fuck, he loved him _so._ He’d heard the emotion quavering in Jahaziel’s voice, and Aziraphale was suddenly so frustrated and dismayed he couldn’t perceive how the other felt right now. That he couldn’t tell him every single shred of truth he’d ever wanted to. 

Surely he’d be forgiven with this kind of love between them. He could certainly hear the ardor he wished for and see it in Jahaziel’s face… but it was so much more than Aziraphale had ever expected to receive again. It also hit him hard at that moment that he did not deserve him. With all the demon had done in the past, with all the repressed yet dark memories he still carried from his awful marriage of loneliness and anger to that poor human not so very long ago, Aziraphale did not deserve this kind of redemptive love and devotion. The _real_ kind. Yet somehow, here they were, getting married in a way that no one else probably ever had. So unique to them. And he could sing again he was so humbly grateful for it. 

Jahaziel could feel it, the tender and raw emotion Aziraphale had in those moments. sob notwithstanding. He ached for him, but only because the demon saw it ill-fitting to give into them now. Of all times, Jahaziel would concede this was the proper time and place to do so. But he knew that Aziraphale was one to keep his hand close to his chest. Even now, his stubbornness made the angel chuckle ever so fondly. He knew, this time, that the words held different meaning now. Rather, the same meaning, but Aziraphale listened. Believed. Be it the enchantment of the evening, or some celestial magic in the perfectly aligned stars, it got through to him. Maybe, just this once. But he only had to be believed once. "Where should I place it?" Jahaziel asked finally, quietly, "or would you do the honors?"

Aziraphale laughed in a way that could have passed for another sob. “Of course,” he managed with a truly happy, watery smile. The first smile unstained by any underlying sadness in memory. Aziraphale could only think of one placement for the only angel in Creation enlightened enough to see more than any other. He took the cloth back, unfolded it over his palm, and gently placed it over where Jahaziel’s “third eye” would be. Aziraphale let his own shut, his other hand sliding to Jahaziel’s cheek. 

Jahaziel closed his eyes as well, unabashedly enjoying the warmth of his palms on his skin. How enamored he'd become with those hands over so many centuries. How wonderful to know that they'd now be joined with his forever. 

Aziraphale pressed his own forehead to the back of his hand, breathing his intent for the sigil to transfer to his angel. When he pulled back, the symbols and lines glowed white for just a second before they vanished.


	8. Chapter 8

The spot just between the angel’s eyes tingled as the sigil faded, overall not feeling any different but knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was now marked for all time. There really weren't any words to describe how he felt, having been given this gift. He felt as though anything he might say would be trite or fall short. So he merely watched him then, studying his face, taking in everything he could in the moonlight around them. (And, surprising no one but Jahaziel, this moment was indeed just that much more beautiful than the last.) 

There was, however, the little detail about his last gift to the demon. Of course, it should have been expected, given how much Aziraphale had lamented not having one for himself, and Jahaziel had no problems fulfilling that desire for him. He waited a few moments longer to be sure he could speak without his voice cracking for one reason or another, and took in a breath.

He smiled again, warm as the sun itself, taking his demon's hands. "You definitely missed out on talking about me at length. I thought you'd be all over the idea of vows, come on now." Though his jab was really very much at himself, too - he'd only just now remembered that tradition. He had nothing prepared for this. "I'll let you go after this though, if you want. My treat." He winked at him, squeezing the hands he held, trying to psyche himself up to hopefully not make a fool of himself.

Aziraphale chuckled at the little joke. “Please, darling, do be careful what you allow your demon go on about. We both know full well who inspired Jane Austen to be so grotesquely eloquent.” It wasn’t Aziraphale, but it had been a demon all the same, and the point stood.

_"Truly_ a nightmare," Jahaziel mused, not having a more succinct way to tell him he would have listened to the demon wax poetic about him for hours had he the time or desire to actually do so. "Aziraphale, I..." ...And he made a fool of himself anyway, falling incredibly short. There was so much to say, and not nearly enough words in any language to say it. Love was a difficult thing, even to something that was made from it. 

The demon had felt the waves of anxiety rolling off Jahaziel most of the night, but it had been a lot more minor than what tinged his words now. Patient as ever, he only gazed at him quietly, wondering how on earth the angel _still_ had more yet to give to him.

"I love you,” Jahaziel started, “More than... More than the observatory, more than the internet, more than... all the humans on Earth. More than any of the stars I've ever made. _Aziraphale."_ He locked eyes with him then, staring into them deeply. Help him, he loved those gorgeous eyes. "I love you more than being an angel. I'd be a normal human and live my very short normal human life every day _entirely_ happy if it meant I could spend it with you. Eighty or ninety years with you is worth _everything_ to me. More than an eternity without."

Dammit, that wasn't quite it either. He was trying so hard. 

But Aziraphale more than knew what his beloved was trying to say, and he was doing a far better job than his anxiety was probably having him believe. He knew him so well, and even so, it completely floored him to hear Jahaziel say he loved him more than being _holy._ More than living forever. A mixture of dread and overwhelming affection intermingled, warring in his head for a moment before he focused on the latter, determined to not let it ruin how he received what his angel had to say. He decided he no longer cared about the tears falling down his cheeks. Help him, he could have never put it better himself.

Jahaziel made a frustrated sound, pulling his hands back, reaching into the other pocket of his jacket to fish out his last gift. "What I'm trying to say." He took one of Aziraphale's hands, he was very sure the traditional hand was the left one, but he couldn't remember _why_ right now - and slipped a golden ring on the proper finger. "I want to be married to you. Or the closest approximation that we can manage. Stars above, Aziraphale. I want to be _husbands."_

When the ring slid onto his finger, Aziraphale could barely contain the sheer happiness in his being. He looked at the perfect golden band on his hand. “As do I,” he said, voice cracking with emotion. 

With his words the angel bled sincerity, knowing that there was zero possibility Aziraphale would say no but still somehow feeling as though he might. Also present in his mind was a little petulance. Humans got to be _so happy_ when they were married. He was really starting to buy into this whole 'significance of a ceremony' thing, whether he intended to or not. "If you'll allow me this, with this ring, and with my sigil as well-" Because, honestly. Why hadn't he thought of something as amazing as that? "-I'll... keep doing exactly as we have been. But we'll be married. So it will be better. What do you say...?"

Aziraphale couldn’t describe how he felt aside from pure gratification. Joyful. Loved. _Validated._ The words were simply not enough. He could have been in front of the Princes of Hell themselves right then and there, and he wouldn’t have given a damn. He answered his angel first with a deep kiss, holding him close, his hands firmly on his back. _Screw that tradition,_ he just couldn’t _help_ himself. He wanted to rid Jahaziel of that anxiety. They deserved to feel as fantastic, jubilant, and content as possible. 

Again, it almost felt to Jahaziel as if time had slowed, the moments between his words and then the kiss stretching forever before he was completely captured in it. He felt right properly wooed in that instance, practically melting against him and letting arms wind around Aziraphale in turn. It was freeing, almost. Freeing and binding at the same time. A lot of things were sealed, finalized with a kiss. Though he still had more to say, the concerns and nerves he had simply evaporated from him - and it was mesmerizing how little it took from the demon to get them to do so. Tradition be _damned_ indeed.

When he pulled away after that blissful moment, Aziraphale looked at Jahaziel just as the angel had a moment ago, so full of ardor and truth, his eyes crinkling with the purest happiness. “Did you think there was any universe in which I would say no?”

Jahaziel laughed helplessly, pulling a hand back to wipe wetness from his eyes as he shook his head. "No," the word was breathy and incredulous, mostly at himself. "Of course not." Maybe there was a universe in which he'd never get a chance to. Maybe there was a universe in which they never got to this point. He wouldn't let that thought get to him now, though - he wouldn't lament the what-if's of those poor souls that would miss out on something like this. "I believe in any universe... you'd feel exactly the same way."

He moved again, pulling Aziraphale's left hand off himself, holding it and gently running his thumb over the ring as he looked at it, smiling. He could get to his sigil in a moment - he was still very proud of the ring, and it fell right in line with his previous gift. "I made this, you know." His voice was humble; quiet. If he was underprepared before, this was an exercise in pure improv. "You know those fancy little gold caps some of those scrolls in Alexandria had? Turns out they are, ah... _remarkably_ easy to fiddle off." His brows raised cheekily, and he looked up at Aziraphale again, unable to conceal a grin. "And I figured... You know, they aren't _really_ interested in the scrolls themselves, just what's on them, right?" 

Aziraphale simply did not know what to say as Jahaziel explained where he’d gotten the gold for his wedding ring. The old, stale and sour memories of the incident seemed like such a distant thing now. Now he had to wonder just how long Jahaziel had been planning this. He’d redeemed the tragedy. He’d somehow, in his own perfectly unique way, shifted how Aziraphale felt about it entirely. Sure, he was certain the sting of it being mostly lost to history would still resurface, but for now? For now, it felt as though he was grateful that it had happened. He never would have been able to feel like this about it otherwise. He studied the ring, small bands of color variation indeed calling back to what the caps had looked like. Jahaziel had even kept its design reminiscent of Damascus steel. Literal beauty from the ashes.

The angel squeezed his hand fondly, but his look fell to seriousness, as if he merely sensed that there were still concerns in Aziraphale’s mind. "I know you think of Alexandria as one of your biggest regrets. But if it hadn't caught fire from those ships, and we hadn't been there to gather what we did... I have no doubt in my mind that someone from Heaven would have come along hours or days later to destroy it themselves." Uriel had said as much. "And _nothing_ would have made it out." His other hand came to the side of his demon's face, looking at him once again, that same intensity in his eyes as he thumbed away his tears. "You were the _best thing_ that could have ever happened to Alexandria, Aziraphale. And I want you to remember that." 

Jahaziel’s comment on Heaven coming to destroy the rest later if it hadn’t burned was a sobering thought to Aziraphale. Stars above, how had they both ever come from such a place of horrid “angels”? Jahaziel was what they should have all stayed like from the beginning of creation. Aziraphale’s emotions were thoroughly wrecked. ‘You were the best thing that could have happened to Alexandria’ struck a chord hard in him. Jahaziel was right. Nothing would have survived had they not been there. He was sure of it now. But he stayed quiet still, watching the angel prepare his next words.

Anything truly _bad_ that Aziraphale had ever done was typically followed with more regret than Jahaziel had ever seen any angel express. And _forget_ Heaven. The remorse that the demon had for those things should have been more than enough to redeem him ten times over. That they shared so much pain over the same brutal, depressing, and terrible experiences was not a fact Jahaziel handled carelessly. He held up the hand in his. "This ring is proof that not everything was lost that day. And that humanity is _truly blessed_ to have you in any capacity. Along with my love, I want to give you that reassurance." It was the best reason he could think of for making him a band with the same intent he wore his own: a reminder to always protect what was important. A reminder to always do what he believed to be right. And a reminder to always do so with love.

Humanity _blessed_ to have him? Oh Aziraphale just. Couldn’t quite agree on the whole, but the words still meant a lot to him, coming from his beloved. Perhaps… for all the awful things he’d done though… perhaps he could indeed be redeemed in some way. At least in Jahaziel’s eyes. Who else really mattered? The demon shut his eyes, so deeply touched. Tears rolled again as he touched his forehead to the angel’s. And the significance of his last statement was not lost on him. He knew this meant they were united on the same front they always had been - permanently. This ring would forever remind him of this. “I do believe you’ve rendered me speechless,” he whispered, his throat tight. He did have one thing he could say though. He opened his eyes and leaned back just a tad, catching Jahaziel’s gaze. _“Thank you,”_ he said once more with every ounce of sincerity he possessed. He interlaced their fingers. “Earth is undeniably blessed to have you too. As am I.”

There was nothing left to hold back, Jahaziel practically bleeding his love into the area. He wouldn’t have been surprised if flowers began blooming in their wake, he was just so _full_ of literally every positive emotion he could ever imagine. Heaven and Hell didn’t matter in these moments. What had taken place was something more sacred to them than any iconography or figure could have ever hoped to be. The same feeling torrented from Aziraphale as well, his own unique version of it, and their feelings mingled together on the beach in the quietness around them.

In a truly human tradition, the angel and the demon shared a kiss that would forever mark their union together. A betrothal that united opposing forces across what would be a battlefield, and something they could only hope would give true merit to the phrase ‘love conquers all’.


End file.
